


Collide

by Provocatrixxx



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/M, Genderswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-10
Updated: 2013-01-10
Packaged: 2017-11-25 00:28:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/633167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Provocatrixxx/pseuds/Provocatrixxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I’m your new Quartermaster,” she says, as though challenging him to dispute the fact.</i>
</p><p> <i>“You must be joking,” he replies, but neither of them looks especially amused. The weaponry is simple and effective, and just as lethal as she appears to be.</i></p><p>Just a snippet of what Bond's world might be like if new Q was less like Ben Whishaw and more like Lisbeth Salander. More or less PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Collide

MI6 forces conformity. Those who stand out are likely to become security risks, so when he first sees her, with her half-shaved head and pale skin marked with dark ink, he assumes she’s a junior unlikely to see out the month. A moment’s reassessment brings him to the opposite conclusion – she’s valuable, sufficiently so that she can dictate her own terms to MI6. It’s confirmed when she strides right up to him, a weapon and a tiny radio in her outstretched hand.

“I’m your new Quartermaster,” she says, as though challenging him to dispute the fact.

“You must be joking,” he replies, but neither of them looks especially amused. The weaponry is simple and effective, and just as lethal as she appears to be.

***

She is surrounded by screens of code in Q-Branch, tapping away at a keyboard while simultaneously directing her staff in a quiet voice that expects obedience. For a moment, Bond stands in silent awe of her efficiency. He admires competence in all its forms, but this woman, who disguises her beauty with distain and camouflages it with an impenetrable air of confidence, is more alluring than anything he has ever known.

“I hope you’re here to return my kit,” she says, barely sparing him a glance out of the corner of her eye.

“I brought you what’s left of it,” he replies, and places the jagged bloodied shards into her outstretched hand. She frowns as she turns the pieces over, but doesn’t say a word about their condition, scraping a smear of brain matter off the serial number with the nail of her thumb.

***

He knows that she smokes more than he does, so it is a simple mathematical certainty that they will one day meet up on the rooftops. MI6 does not condone smoking, and there is nowhere else in the building to go.

It takes a full two weeks before their paths collide. She has wedged herself into a corner, feet up on one low wall and her back pressed against the adjacent one. His presence catches her off guard, but she is quick to recover, fixing him with an irritated look of condescension as he moves closer and stands his usual spot a few feet away from her.

“Do you have a light?” he asks by way of greeting, because she has not time or care for the social niceties of greeting and conversation.

“You have one in your left hip pocket,” she says, mouth twisting in a wry smirk as she steadily looks him up and down. She sprawls her legs a little more, dominating her space and daring him to come closer.

“Voyeur,” he accuses, pulling out his lighter.

“You have no idea,” she purrs, and the first sweet bite of smoke in his lungs is met with an answering twinge of want in his stomach. He has been watching her for days, imagined pinning her skinny wrists against the tiles of his shower and tasting the dark ink on her skin. He knows she’d be wild and demanding, writhing beneath him, sharp nails clawing at his skin.

***

She lets him follow her home one night, makes him work for it, the hazy red glow of her bike’s rear light snaking through the half-empty back streets. 

Her flat is small and dark and she pounces on him as soon as they’re through the door, hands in his hair to drag his mouth down to hers, all sharp teeth and skilled tongue. She is slender and strong and pale and demanding, arching into and away from his touch until she wraps her leather-clad thighs around his waist and lets him carry her over to the couch. He lays her down as carefully as he dares, smoothing her fringe until she grabs his wrist, pulls him down on top of her and begins to strip him out of his suit. The leathers are difficult, and she pulls them off herself, her movements swift and utilitarian, and he is caught for a moment by the beauty of the colours overlaying her skin, their smooth lines in counterpoint to the sharpness of her hips and rib-cage. 

When she straddles him and slides down onto him in one smooth, practiced movement, they both breathe out on a moan and he rests his hands over her hips in a momentary plea for stillness. She knows exactly what she wants and takes it from him roughly, holding tight to his shoulders as she grinds and bucks her way to orgasm, biting her screams into the muscle of his neck. It is only then that she allows him to lift her, her hands tangling back into his hair as he presses her against the wall and takes her hard and fast. He leaves dark bruises on her thighs and she digs deep grooves into his shoulders as she comes again, shaking and soft.

***

He checks the locks as he leaves her, reassures himself that she is not vulnerable and tries not to let her see how much he approves of the precautions she has taken, the flat impenetrable and a loaded nine mil at her side. There is no fragility to her now – she is as armoured in the coils of smoke around her naked body as ever she was in her biking gear. She doesn't trust him, not yet at least, and he feels her gaze digging into his back as he leaves. She is solid and dependable and sharply angled, and she has no further need for him. For now though, he’ll take whatever he can get.

END

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> Inspired by [this post](http://professorfangirl.tumblr.com/post/40077030483/gender-switch-q-been-done) by professorfangirl on Tumblr.


End file.
